


A Chance Encounter

by Hanaasbananas



Category: That '70s Show
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanaasbananas/pseuds/Hanaasbananas
Summary: When Jackie rejects Kelso's serenade, she leaves the basement and the gang behind for good. Seven years later, a meeting in a bar gives birth to an unexpected friendship that could change the course of her life forever. AU
Relationships: Jackie Burkhart/Original Character(s), Jackie Burkhart/Steven Hyde
Comments: 23
Kudos: 205





	A Chance Encounter

_Her daddy goes to jail and her mom barely takes the time to tell Jackie she’ll be moving to New York to live with her godmother before flying away to Mexico and a host of cabana boys._

_It’s not such a huge loss, when she thinks about it. Aunt Natalie tells her she’ll be old enough to have a society debut next year, and the thought of so much new jewellery and clothes makes her giddy._

_Slamming shut her last suitcase; she surveys her bedroom one last time. There’s nothing for her to miss here. It’s not like she has a boyfriend who’ll miss her. And the cheerleaders are all backstabbing bitches who wouldn’t know a real feeling if it hit them in the face with a giant freakin’ pom pom._

_She thinks briefly, of the basement gang, of the friendships she abandoned but then she dismisses the thought. They never liked her anyway-they’d proven that their loyalty was to Michael, not her._

_Kelso’s dumb attempt at serenading her had been the last straw. She’d gotten her own back on him though, threatening to “spread so many rumours about you that the only action you’ll be getting for a long time will be from your right hand” if he so much as looked at her again. She hadn’t meant it of course, but it_ had _been funny to watch Michael practically climb over his friends to escape whenever he caught a glimpse of her at school._

_She’d spoken briefly to the gang once more, with Hyde thanking her for the burn that kept on giving, and Eric for finally leaving the basement, but she knew that if they ever had to choose between her and Michael, they’d choose him._

_There’s nothing for her here anymore._

_The thought might have upset her once, but Jackie always knew she was destined for far greater than this podunk town, and what’s greater than New York City?_

* * *

Ducking inside The Glass Onion, Hyde slams the door shut just as the light rain turns into a torrential downpour outside, grimacing as crumbling plaster rains down on his head and sticks in his damp hair. The pungent scent of cigarette smoke and bottom shelf vodka is a familiar one as he heads for the bar, leaning lazily against the sticky pitted wood to observe the other patrons through the smoky haze.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice her. She blends in with the seedy crowd pretty well, but he’s been doing this long enough to see the smaller signs. Her shoulders are a little too hunched, her head hanging a little too low for someone who’s used to being in a place like this.

He grins. Hyde knows a rich chick who wants to slum it when he sees one, and he’s an _expert_ at getting girls to lower their standards. Moving to sit on the stool next to the girl, he watches as she shifts slightly without looking up, giving him more room. Tilting his head he examines her- something about her seems familiar, a niggling memory in the back of his mind that eludes capture.

“Will you stop staring at me?” she snaps suddenly, turning to face him and he blinks.

“Jackie?”

She stiffens at the sound of her name, spinning back around in her seat. “What? No my name’s not _Jackie_ , you’ve got the wrong person.”

Hyde snorts. Yeah, he’d recognise that shrill voice anywhere. “Relax, _Beulah_ , I won’t tell anyone you were in such a dirty bar” as he speaks, she pushes her hair out of her face, squinting blearily at him in the dim light.

“ _Hyde?”_

“The one and only.”

She peers at him again and he doesn’t look away, “huh” she muses. “Small world.” Gesturing at her glass, she shifts again to face him. “First one’s on me?”

Well he’s never been one to turn down a free drink. Or two. Or three.

After their fifth drink, when they’ve moved close enough to each other that he can see the lights behind him reflected in her eyes, he notices the tan line on her finger where a ring should be.

“You lookin’ to forget the divorce or just want some fun on the side?” she pulls back, following his gaze to her bare finger and stares, transfixed for a moment before snorting.

“Pretty sure I’m the one who’s been written off the menu” Jackie shakes her head. “I threw it at him, but don’t worry!” she leans forward, swaying slightly and speaking in a stage whisper “he’ll put it back on when I go home, just like he did at the wedding, and then he’ll pli-pr-” she hiccoughs “ _pinky promise_ not to bring anymore sluts home and I’ll smile and move on because I’m a _good wife!”_ throwing back her drink, she giggles, reaching out to snap his jaw shut where it had fallen open.

“City of dreams, right?” she rolls her eyes, turning to flag down the bartender. He’s still staring incredulously at her when she presents them with shots, though he notices her shoulders are tense. Taking in his expression, Jackie sighs.

“Look, forget what I said, okay? It’s really not that big of a deal.” But her eyes tell him something different. For the first time that night he lets himself see the loneliness in them, understands why she wanted to hear everything about Donna and Eric and Fez and even freakin’ _Kelso_. Downing the shots she offered him, he ignores the way the alcohol burns his throat, pretends he can’t see the way she’s still watching him carefully, apprehensively.

He could drown in those eyes. He could fall in without a second thought and lose it all. And yet.

And _yet._

He offers his friendship.

And if the way she parts her lips in surprise-genuine surprise as though nobody’s ever offered to be her friend before makes his heart constrict in his chest, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he covers her hand on the bar with his own and grins.

“Anything for you, doll.”

* * *

_Jackie Burkhart is fifteen years old the first time her world crumbles at her feet outside the Forman’s kitchen. The second time it happens, she’s twenty one and she doesn’t run away._

_Instead she flips the light on in her bedroom and shrieks. She shrieks as the woman she recognises as Daniel’s secretary Emily (_ God _she always hated that bitch) scrambles off her husband and rushes to cover herself with the sheets, but Jackie doesn’t let her. She thinks of Michael Kelso, of Pam Macy and Laurie Forman and the endless string of cheerleaders paraded on his arm and blood rushes in her ears. She didn’t stand for it then, and she sure as hell won’t stand for it_ now.

 _Grabbing that…_ tramp’s _arm, she drags Emily off the bed towards the door, ignoring her protests and her husband’s calls for her to stop._

 _The roaring in her ears gets louder and she can’t think straight, can barely_ see _straight even as she continues to drag Emily by her arm down the hall, hand tightening on her wrist as the woman tries to break free, spitting and yelling obscenities in her ear._

_“Jackie!” Daniel bellows, breaking through her rage and then his hand cracks across her face with enough force to send her stumbling backwards, letting go of Emily’s arm to clutch at the wall and stop herself from falling._

_She sits in stunned silence. Breathing heavily, she looks at her husband through the curtain of her hair, watches as he pulls Emily towards him, kisses her wrist, gently before glaring at her down on the ground._

_Well. If_ that’s _how he wants to play it…standing up shakily, she_ _turns and makes her way back into the bedroom, trying to hide the way her hands tremble as she methodically packs a small case, ignoring Daniel and Emily watching her from the doorway. She doesn’t say a word as she walks past them, head held high, grasping desperately at the last vestiges of her composure._

_It is when Jackie sits in her car, that she finally lets herself break. Pounding the steering wheel, tears cloud her vision as she screams herself raw._

_(This is the first time she leaves her husband. It will not be the last.)_

* * *

Hyde never expected her to take him up on the offer. Hell, he didn’t even think she’d _remember_ it after all the drinks she had, but there she is at his door a week later, beaming when he lets her in.

Then, he figures it’s a one-time thing—a way for her to satisfy her curiosity about how the other half live. He never really paid attention to her when she hung out at the basement, but he remembers the way she used to look down on others who didn’t share her lifestyle. Hyde can only imagine how much worse that habit is now that she’s a part of ‘Manhattan’s most elite’.

But she keeps on coming, and for some reason, he keeps on letting her. It becomes a ritual—a _thing_ that becomes as predictable as the days of the week. Jackie will show up at his apartment every Wednesday as sure as Saturday follows Friday.

(He likes to think he put up a fight against the invasion but he’s not kidding anyone.)

“How come you never wanna go out someplace?” he asks her the first time she shows up the second time in one week. Hyde doesn’t mind, not really, although he still wonders about it. They’re not best friends or anything. They never go out, just hole up at his place, and more often than not get high together in their own private circle.

This time though, they’re playing chess. He’d taken it upon himself to teach her after her third visit when the stilted conversation became too much. So far, he hasn’t lost a game to her, but she’s determined to beat him and doesn’t register his question at first, too absorbed in analysing the board.

“hm?” she asks absentmindedly, deliberating for a second before making her move.

Hyde grins, playing his winning move “…aand Checkmate” he laughs at Jackie’s put out expression, her lip jutting out in a pout. “You’ll get it next time, grasshopper”

Huffing, Jackie sits back in her chair, glaring at him. “God—I wish you’d stop calling me that-I’m _way_ too pretty to be a bug”

“But you’re annoying like one so...” Hyde shrugs “It fits”

Cutting off her indignant sputtering, he asks his question again. “So what gives? why don’t you ever wanna go out? The last time we hung out in Point Place you pretty much bribed me to go shopping with you.” Her lips twist at the reminder but she doesn’t answer.

“Or are you just ashamed to be seen in public with me?” Jackie’s eyes flash suddenly, and she looks so _affronted_ that Hyde is taken aback.

“No! Hyde—how could you _say_ that?! It’s just…” she looks down at her hands, fidgeting with them in her lap “I don’t actually know where to go around here. I’ve only ever been to high end places-” Hyde scoffs, but she rushes on “and I don’t want to have to deal with the bitches there when I don’t have to-you know?”

“Man, is that _it_?”

Hyde’s going soft. That really is the only explanation for why he gets up and throws a bewildered Jackie her coat. “C’mon Beulah” he sighs “let’s get outta here.”

* * *

_Daniel is remorseful, the first time._

_He comes to see her at Aunt Natalie’s two days later, retreating only when she throws her rings at him. The next day her room is filled with an entire florist’s worth of flowers. He takes her to dinner at Lut_ _èce. He cries, and holds her hand, and promises to be faithful, and to prove it, he presents her with a new ring-bigger, and shinier than her first engagement ring. He takes her dancing like they did on their first date, what feels like so long ago, and she finds herself weakening._

_She remembers how she once swooned every time he looked at her; how he spent the entire night they met at her society debut dancing only with her. How his eyes widened when he saw her walking down the aisle towards him, the way he held her close and kissed her reverently as though she was something precious to behold; twirled her around the dancefloor to the applause of their guests._

_The second time she catches him, he brings her favourite Belgian chocolates, jewellery, clothes…and again his tears._

_The_ third _time, he brings a bouquet of roses and the sheepish grin she fell in love with._

 _Each time, she sees his remorse, and promises, and thinks to herself:_ This time. This time, things will be different.

 _(Daniel is charming, and handsome and everything she ever wanted. He knows this-has_ always _known this and now he uses it against her.)_

_But by the tenth time, the pretence is gone. There are no gifts, no apologies, no tears. There is only a phone call, telling her to “get over yourself” and a car sent to take her to the charity gala they are both to attend._

_And she goes._

_Because there is nowhere else for her to go. Because her daddy is still in jail, and her mom is who-knows-where, and she can’t stand to see the disappointment in Aunt Natalie’s eyes again._

_So she swallows her pride, and clutches at her husband’s arm as though she is a smitten wife, acts like she is the woman who has gotten everything she ever wanted in life, pretends to be happy that they are the most attractive couple in the room… because once upon a time those things mattered to her. And as far as anyone else is concerned, they still do._

_Jackie might have been stupid enough to marry the first guy to sweep her off her feet in a new city, but she isn’t naïve enough to believe she can confide in any of the girls who still consider her an outsider, who watch her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake, to reveal a crack in the façade of her perfect marriage so they can pounce._

_But they won’t find anything. Because if there’s one thing Jackie Burkhart-Vanderbilt knows, it’s how to put on a show._

* * *

Jackie loves scrapbooking.

And to his everlasting chagrin, she’s decided that his apartment is her favourite place to do it. A couple days after she’s been to some party, she’ll camp out on his couch with her craft supplies, wearing sweatpants and the shirt she keeps stealing from him; carefully clipping out newspaper articles about herself and pasting them into a chunky scrapbook, doodling in the empty spaces and adding commentaries in glitter gel pen.

She leaves her crap behind at his place too, and he makes the mistake of complaining about it to Forman when he calls, belatedly realising that he hadn’t mentioned his newfound friendship with Jackie before.

_Oops._

“Forman would you _shut up?”_ he bursts out after he tires of holding the receiver away from his ear to save them from his girly freakout “it’s not a big deal man, we just hang out sometimes” he pauses for a second, debating whether or not to admit the next fact “she’s actually pretty good company.”

“Oh my god” Eric whispers, scandalised. “She’s already got her devil claws into you!”

 _That’s one way to put it_ , he thinks. Out loud, he just says “nah she’s married.” Flipping through Jackie’s scrapbook—hey if she didn’t want him to look, she’d have taken it with her—he stops at a newspaper clipping of her and her husband at some charity auction. The guy’s pretty, he’ll give him that, but he’s got a smarmy grin that’s just itching to be wiped off with a fist. There’s something strange about the photo though, and he can’t figure out what.

“Wow, who’s the unlucky guy?”

“Some rich snob, I think. She’s always talking about the parties they go to in Manhattan”

Forman whistles lowly, impressed. “Wow. She finally made it where she belonged, huh? I bet she’s lapping it up.” Hyde hums noncommittally, flipping through the book again, trying to find what he’s missing.

It comes to him a couple days later, when Jackie makes him go with her to mail the scrapbook to her dad in jail. (“I make them to show him I’m happy, so he won’t worry about me” she explains as she’s wrapping it, and hell, if that isn’t one of the saddest things he’s ever heard.)

Afterwards, they wander around Central Park for a couple of hours and he takes her to his favourite secluded spot where he helps her climb up a tree and pulls out a bag of special brownies to share. Its when they’re looking down on passers-by, giggling, and then smothering their laughter when people look up in confusion; when Jackie laughs so hard she nearly falls out of the tree and almost pulls him down with her before he yanks her back up and they promptly collapse against each other, giggling like little kids that he realises it.

Eric said that Jackie was finally where she belonged, as the perfect trophy wife. But he hasn’t seen the way Jackie holds herself at the events she goes to. Hasn’t seen the way her lips stretch into a pageant smile, but her eyes remain vacant. Hyde thinks of all those photographs, of Jackie clinging to her husbands’ arm, her shoulders stiff, playing the part of a high society belle, and wonders if this was ever really her place at all.

(He wonders what it means that she seems more genuine in the few hours they spend together than she’s ever seemed to be with her husband)

“Steeeeveeen! I’m hungry!” Jackie whines, and he almost tells her not to call him that, but the words die on his tongue when she leans into his side and looks up at him, batting her eyelashes at him all wide-eyed innocence. “Steven” she says again, poking him, and actually, it doesn’t sound so bad coming from her.

“Alright,” he grunts “I know a good place for the munchies.” Beside him, Jackie grins, wide and uninhibited, her eyes sparkling with mirth and _damn_ , that pot must have been stronger than he realised because he can’t stop staring at her like a fuckin’ idiot. Thankfully she doesn’t notice, already scrambling down from her perch on the tree.

They eat more street food than is probably healthy, but the sight of classy little Jackie Burkhart absolutely _going to town_ on a hotdog right there in front of the wide-eyed vendor is damn impressive. He makes sure to get her two more and it doesn’t take her much longer to scarf those down too as they head back to his place. She links her arm with his, leaning against his shoulder as they walk and he’s only half paying attention to whatever it is she’s saying about some brunch scandal when someone calls her name incredulously.

“ _Jackie?”_ she freezes, and Hyde turns to see an impeccably dressed woman waving and hurrying towards them out of the Plaza hotel. That’s about all he registers though because Jackie shrieks, taking off in a sprint without letting go of his arm, dragging him behind her. She only stops four blocks away because she’s laughing so hard, she can’t breathe.

It’s the giddiest he’s ever seen her, and he feels something swell in his chest as he looks at her, bending over with her hands on her knees, gasping for breath, her cheeks bright red from the cold and exertion. She looks up at him, a gleam in her eye and she speaks in between heavy breaths. “I can’t-I can’t feel my legs!” before bursting into another fit of breathless laughter.

And man, he _really_ is going soft because he just lets her climb on his freakin’ back, clinging onto him like a koala bear. She’s still trying to catch her breath, little exhalations puffing into his hair. And he doesn’t even mean it when he threatens to leave her on the sidewalk after she buries her face-her _freezing cold_ face- into the side of his neck for warmth.

When she slides off his back later, he puts his arm around her to steady her, smiling fondly as she stumbles on her feet, suddenly exhausted and rubbing her eyes like a little girl. He can’t help thinking how nice she feels, how she seems to fit perfectly against his side, and then he blinks because-

_Aw crap._

* * *

_She ignores the whispers. The pointed stares at her still flat stomach. The feigned concern for her fertility. The ‘helpful’ advice she gets about getting pregnant._

_“Ten pomegranate tarts a day and you’ll be pregnant in less than a month!” Jackie forces herself not to roll her eyes at the suggestion, instead smiling graciously and nodding at the stranger in front of her._

_“I’ll have to try it” she agrees._

It’s been two years _she can see the thought in their eyes and has to hold back an unladylike snort. ‘Hard to have a baby when your husband stopped fucking you a year into the marriage,’ she wants to say, just to see their scandalised expressions. She won’t, of course, because she’s a perfect wife, and perfect wives don’t lose the attention of their husbands._

_“What are you two gossiping about?” She feels Daniel’s arm slip around her waist, pulling her against him and she represses a shudder at his touch._

_“Oh, well,” the woman simpers disgustingly at Daniel’s attention. “We were just talking about when the two of you will be adding a little one to your family”_

_Daniel laughs “well it’s not like we haven’t been trying” he presses a kiss to her forehead, and where once the gesture would have made butterflies erupt in her stomach, it only makes her cringe. “Isn’t that right darling?”_

_“Right,” Jackie smiles, tight lipped. Daniel sticks to her side like glue the rest of the night, and she struggles to hide her disgust, laughing good naturedly at his stupid jokes._

_“Well you know how it is,” he chuckles with their host as they’re leaving, the subject once more bought round to family. “I just wanted to keep her to myself for a little while” he grasps her hand, squeezing painfully tight “soon she won’t have time for her poor husband!”_

_Jackie waits until they’re out of sight before ripping her hand out from his, feels her blood boiling as she seethes in the car. They’re barely through the front door when she whirls on him. “What the_ fuck _was that?” she hisses_

_“What was what?”_

_“The_ baby _talk!”_

_“Oh” Daniel shrugs “yeah why not?_

_Jackie laughs, a sharp, bitter sound. “One problem there, genius. We’d have to actually sleep together to have one.” She regrets her words immediately when he looks her up and down with a leer, reaching out to run his hand down her arm._

_“I don’t have a problem with that” he grins as she jerks away from him as though she’s been stung._

_“Don’t_ touch _me!”_

_Daniel holds his hands up in mock surrender, going over to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a drink. “We should have a kid soon though, I think” he throws back his drink “it’ll be good for our image.” He doesn’t give her a chance to respond, pouring himself another drink and coming to circle her as if he was examining a purchase. “It’ll give you something to do won’t it? so you stop fucking sulking all the time. Don’t say I never give you anything!”_

_Despite the warm temperature, Jackie feels cold all over. She can’t bear the thought of bringing a child into a family where it won’t be loved, where it will probably be pawned off on the best nannies money can buy, and kept placated with expensive toys meant to make up for their parents absence. She thinks of her own childhood, of missed birthday parties and the sinking feeling of disappointment in the pit of her stomach every time her dad couldn’t make it and how her mom eventually stopped making excuses._

_And she still loves her parents_ so much _despite it all, knows any child of hers would be the same._

_“Fine” the word escapes her in a whisper, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She knows he won’t drop the subject until he gets what he wants, and Jackie isn’t stupid enough to go against him. Not so openly, at least._

_Daniel pauses on his way upstairs, looking back at Jackie rooted to her spot in the hall. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll even stop being such a bitch” he laughs “but that’s just asking for a miracle.”_

_She ignores his attempt to get a rise out of her, pressing her lips together into a hard line. She doesn’t know how long she stands there in the darkened hallway, her mind racing, trying to think of everything she can do to ensure she_ doesn’t _get pregnant. There’s an ache in her chest and Jackie doesn’t realise she’s crying until she tastes saltwater, her legs finally giving out as she sinks down to the floor with a gasp._

_She’d thought her heart had broken when her marriage had, but now she feels new cracks forming, splintering it further._

_She’d had so many dreams. Of children borne of love, of family vacations and Christmas traditions, of soccer games and ballet recitals; cheering on her children with Daniel by her side. She could still have that, if she was selfish. But she can’t-_ won’t _subject her children to the same uncertainty she lived with, wondering everyday why her daddy didn’t spend time with her, if she wasn’t good enough, if it was something she’d done._

_She’d had so many dreams, but now they are gone, scattered like ashes on the wind._

* * *

He doesn’t tell her. Really, what would be the point—they’ve got a good thing going with this friendship schtick and it’s not like he’s built for long term relationships like Forman and Donna anyway.

So he contents himself with the small things. The way she leans her head on his shoulder whenever they go to the dollar theatre, how she curls up on his couch with the latest trashy romance novel and starts reading them out loud when he complains about her tainting his apartment with them. (He does _not_ get invested in the stories, no matter what Jackie says. He was only so engrossed in the novel because he was trying to find the dirty parts). At one point she even tries to cook him a meal but to nobody’s surprise they end up ordering pizza instead.

And really, it’s all so disgustingly _domestic_ that he should be running for the hills, but he can’t bring himself to. It’s not even a relationship, he tells himself. And even if it _was_ , Jackie is the last person he’d judge for having an affair, especially with that skeezeball of a husband she has, but she’s determined to hold onto her morality, to be the honest one in her marriage.

Apparently though, being honest only extends to infidelity, Hyde thinks numbly staring at the building in front of him.

Jackie hadn’t quit yapping for a single second while she drove them here, the steely resolve in her eyes promising him pain if he dared to interrupt while she told him not to ask questions; to just agree with everything she said. He’d bemusedly agreed, but as they stare at the Planned Parenthood in front of them, Jackie falls silent, and his stomach drops.

Instinctively, he reaches out and takes hold of Jackie’s hand, squeezing gently to reassure her, because what the hell else can he do? She clutches it like a lifeline, grabbing hold of him with her other hand as well and it takes him a moment to realise that he can’t feel the cool metal of her rings; another moment to realise what that means.

His hand remains sandwiched between both of hers, Jackie refusing to let him go even as she continues to ignore him, staring resolutely forward at the doctor explaining the procedure to them.

He can feel her trembling as the doctor uses words like ‘suction’ and ‘vacuum aspiration’, barely understanding the explanation but she still doesn’t say a word. Hyde wishes Mrs Forman was here—she’d be a hell of a lot better support right about now. But she isn’t here. Hyde is. So he asks the only thing he can.

“Is it safe?”

“Of course,” the doctor reassures them “the procedure will only take five to ten minutes, but Miss Burkhart will have to stay in the recovery room for at least half an hour afterwards.”

They don’t let him come in with her, no matter how much Jackie protests, making him sit in the waiting room while she disappears behind a door, and it’s damn near the longest fifteen minutes of his life. He has to force himself to sit, to stop pacing the room when the receptionist gives him the stink eye.

When the doctor comes out and nods to him, Hyde feels the hard knot of anxiety in his chest loosening, practically jogging into the recovery room to see Jackie. She’s sitting up on the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, her face pale and drawn. Approaching her slowly, he sits beside her on the bed, pulling her arms from around her legs and drawing her into an embrace.

She’s shaking so violently that he thinks she might explode; her arms coming up to clutch at his shoulders, burying her face in his chest and soaking his shirt with tears.

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that, but eventually she pulls away, leaning back to look up at him, her eyes wide and red rimmed.

“Did I-” she clears her throat “did I do the right thing?” her voice plaintive, “will God hate me for not wanting to have my husband’s child?” tears fill her eyes again and she shuts them, swallowing hard when he presses a kiss to her temple.

“No.” he tells her honestly, because he can’t imagine _anyone_ looking at her, this tiny girl breaking in his arms and deciding that they hate her.

She searches his eyes and must find the truth in them because she tilts her head up and he finds himself frozen as she brushes her lips against his once, twice…the third time he responds, pressing his lips gently to hers for a long moment, before pulling back; resisting the urge to chase after the taste of her lips. Resting his forehead against hers, she leans into his touch as he strokes her cheek with his thumb, speaking in a hoarse whisper “Jackie, we…”

“I know” she interrupts him, the edges of her lips curving in a wobbly smile “I’m sorry.” Putting her arms back around his neck, she lays her head on his chest.

“Take me home, Steven.”

* * *

_It’s been like this all night, the stares burning into her back, following her every move as she plays hostess. They muffle their snickers whenever she passes by, avoid her eyes and decline when she offers to get a waiter to pour them a drink; their giggles exploding out of them as soon as she moves away._

_It’s enough to make her paranoid and Jackie resists the urge to twist around and check the back of her dress for any stains, knowing that will only make things worse. As the night progresses, she feels the tension in her shoulders increase, her smile becoming strained while she talks to others, acutely aware of the girl’s eyes on her still. She catches Aunt Natalie looking at her from across the room and the disappointment in her expression is palpable, making Jackie’s heart sink in her chest. The party had been her aunt’s idea_ _—_ _apparently it wasn’t enough to simply attend other parties, Jackie had to host her own as well. And she was not doing it well._

_The last time she’d thrown a party had been when they got back from their honeymoon. That hadn’t been nearly as difficult as this one, but then, she supposes, she’d been basking in newlywed bliss, and Daniel had been playing the perfect husband, taking the lead as they socialised, his arm a reassuring presence on her waist._

_This time though, Daniel…isn’t here, Jackie notices suddenly. Scanning the crowd quickly she finds that he isn’t even in the_ room _let alone by her side._

That fucking bastard.

_Skirting around the guests, Jackie makes her way out into the empty hallway, letting her shoulders drop as she exhales sharply. She hadn’t realised how warm inside she was until the cool air makes goose bumps rise on her exposed flesh. Relishing in the lack of scrutiny, Jackie lets herself stand there for another minute, soaking in the silence before going to find her husband._

_She hears them before she sees them, her hand pausing on the door handle to his office. They aren’t even_ trying _to be quiet, as if they_ want _to be found out. And they have been, she realises, thinking of the sideways glances all night, how those girls looked her up and down…their giggles at her expense._

_Jackie sees red._

_Yanking open the door, she lets herself in, slamming the door behind her to let them know of her presence. Daniel barely reacts, but the girl_ _—_ _a member of the catering staff, for_ God’s sake— _stares at her over Daniel’s shoulder, eyes wide with panic as Jackie just stands there. She can feel herself flushing the longer she stands there, those girls giggles ringing in her ears; bile rising in her throat._

 _How dare he. It was one thing to be unfaithful_ _—_ _she’d made her peace with that_ _—_ _but to humiliate her like this? In her_ own home _, with a houseful of guests just down the hallway?_

 _She can see it now. The mock pity wherever she’ll go, whispered comments every time she goes out in public_ _—_ _“poor thing, can’t even keep her husband’s attention!”_ _—_ _and she’ll have to pretend not to hear them, act like nothings changed. Just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants for_ one _fucking night._

_Screw this._

_He’d been so gung-ho about this party, let him entertain the guest himself because she refuses to do another thing._

_Working her rings off her finger, Jackie flings them at his desk where they bounce off onto the floor. Striding across the room, she ignores the girl and grabs Daniel by the scruff of his neck, pulling him back to hiss in his ear. “When you’re done fucking the staff, you might wanna show your face at the party you’re throwing. I’m out.”_

_Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and leaves, making her escape through the kitchen._

_The light drizzle outside does nothing to quell the fire burning inside her chest and she keeps walking, and walking, and walking without direction. She doesn’t know how many neighbourhoods she walks through, ignoring the way her hair begins to frizz from the rain, wrapping her arms around herself to protect herself from the cold that seems to have seeped into her very bones._

_Raucous laughter makes her look up, jumping out of the way of a group of rowdy drunks. Taking in her surroundings for the first time she realises she’s never been here before. The street is lined with darkened storefronts and she can still hear the men further down the street-singing now._

_A drink. That’s what she needs. And those guys had seem to come out of nowhere so the bar must be someplace close…Jackie makes her strides more purposeful, scrutinising every building she walks past until she finds it. The Glass Onion._

_She pauses just outside the door, looking back at the street again. Nobody she knows would be caught dead in a place like this, which_ means _nobody here will recognise her._

_Perfect._

* * *

“Why did you tell Mrs Forman you weren’t coming home for Christmas?”

Hyde winces at the sight of Jackie standing, hands on her hips glaring at him from his living room. Reaching into his bag of groceries, he pulls out a box “Puddin’ Pop?” he offers awkwardly

“Don’t you change the subject, Steven Hyde!” Jackie exclaims, storming up to him and poking him hard in the chest before snatching the box from his hand with a sniff “but yes I will have one.”

He watches in amusement as she unwraps the ice cream, moving around her to put away the groceries. She follows behind him, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs back and forth.

“But seriously” she asks, “why’d you do it?”

Hyde doesn’t even know _how_ she knows, but he’s learnt it’s better not to ask when it comes to Jackie. “Look, Jackie” he begins “I just don’t feel like it this year. It’s no big deal.” There’s no way he’s going to tell her his _actual_ feelings.

How can he tell her how _out of his mind_ he was with worry when she didn’t get out of bed for three days straight? How he would have done anything to get rid off the dull look she had in her eyes for weeks afterwards? How there are times when his body _aches_ with the effort of holding back from her and he wonders how her husband could ever look at someone else, how Kelso did the same, how that’s all she’s known in men and he wants to give her all the happiness she deserves?

Yeah. He’s not saying anything.

“Well if it’s not a big deal,” Jackie starts, and he turns to look at her suspiciously because her voice is way too innocent right now-“you won’t mind that I told Mrs Forman when she called that you’ll _definitely_ be there”

“Jackie!” 

“What?” she shrugs innocently “I really don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with your family” jumping down from the counter, she comes to stand in front of him. “God knows I’m gonna be bored out of my skull at all the society parties I have to go to. I’d give anything to have another Christmas with daddy.”

Standing up on her toes, Jackie plants a sugary kiss on his cheek before smiling softly. “You should go”

* * *

And that’s how he finds himself back at the Formans, cursing Jackie because of course she was right. He did miss them.

(Not that he’ll tell her that)

It’s strange though. He’s been home a week, with Mrs Forman smothering him the whole time—more than she’s been smothering Forman, Hyde delights in pointing out—but he’s never felt more out of place. He never noticed it before, but now it’s all he can see: Red pulling Kitty into his side, their hands entwining when she sits on the arm of his chair, Donna resting her head on Eric’s shoulder while they watch TV and he kisses her forehead in response.

Its sickening.

And it makes something deep inside him ache, his heart thumping painfully in his chest in a rhythm that almost sounds like _Jackie._

The circle would be the perfect place to forget this crap, but he’s barely taken a hit when Forman says, “so how’s the devil doing- _ow!”_ he rubs his arm where Hyde frogged him, “that bad, huh?”

Hyde frogs him again and Kelso looks between the two of them “uh guys, it’s not Halloween, it’s _Christmas!”_ he nudges Fez “these guys are totally toasted, man.”

“Ai, but I wish I had Halloween candy right now”

“No Kelso,” Forman explains, shuffling out of range of Hyde’s fist. “Hyde’s been hanging out with _Jackie_ in the Big Apple”

Hyde ignores Kelso’s surprised squawk, ignores the way Fez wails — “aii my beautiful goddess-the one that got away. First Halloween candy, and now this—must you all remind Fez of what he doesn’t have?”—because at that moment the basement door bursts open and there she is, breathing heavily, her hair bedraggled and hanging in limp strands around her face.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, neither saying a word, and Hyde is pretty sure he isn’t breathing either.

“… _Jackie?”_ Forman’s exclamation breaks the silence, but she doesn’t look away from him and she still hasn’t said a word but somehow, Hyde knows this moment right here right now is a turning point. For what, he doesn’t know, but the faltering thump of his heart tells him what he _wants_ it to be.

Refusing to tear his gaze from hers, Hyde stands up, slowly making his way towards her and taking her hand, leads her into his old room.

He turns to her when they’re alone, taking in the small furrow between her brows. Finally, she looks up at him, her expression clearing, and she steps closer to him, smiling when his arms automatically encircle her waist.

“Steven…” she murmurs “I left him.”

“What is that, the twentieth time now?” he raises an eyebrow, laughing when she swats at him.

“Shut up!”

“Daniel accused me of having an affair” she continues “and I was going to deny it, but I realised…” she bites her lip “for all intents and purposes, we _are_ in a relationship” Jackie shrugs, smiling playfully up at him “so I told him that, yeah I _am_ having an affair, and that I’m divorcing his sorry ass.”

Hyde doesn’t respond.

It’s like his mind is short circuiting, and his heart is beating so fast all he can do is stare at her in awe. He’s not sure that translates in his expression though, because his silence makes Jackie start to babble nervously, her eyes darting around the room. “Okay Steven I know that this is kinda unexpected because I kept saying ‘Burkhart’s don’t get divorced’ but daddy used to say that ‘Burkhart’s don’t go to jail’ and we all know what a crock of shit _that_ is, and it’s okay if you don’t want to be with me I just came straight down to tell you because I love you and I’m pretty sure you feel the same but I’ve been wrong before, I mean I was about Daniel and maybe you just want to be friends and that’s okay. I mean it’s not okay it totally sucks but-”

“Jackie” Hyde interrupts her and her mouth clicks shut “shut your pie hole.” He feels his lips tilting up in a smile, sees her notice it and look up at him, her eyes shining with so much _hope_ …

Well what else can he do but pull her closer to him, cup her face in his hands and kiss her, long and slow? He feels her smile against his lips, wrapping her arms around him and he pulls away to look in her eyes. “Does that answer your question?”

“Hm” she considers teasingly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he feels a thrill run down his spine at the simple gesture. “I think I’m gonna need a more _thorough_ answer.”

Hyde is only too happy to comply.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp I finally finished my first T7S fic! And It only took 4 months, 5 outlines, a 7 week trip abroad for me to do it! I hope Hyde wasn't too OOC I felt like I got him right but this is also my first fic so who knows. I was mostly going off the idea that it's been 7 years and he wouldn't be as much of a dickhead still LOL.  
> I hope the way this was written with the flashbacks and the parallel narratives isn't too confusing (it was hell to write-if you follow me on tumblr you'll probably know how much the logistics were melting my brain) but feel free to ask any questions and let me know what you thought!


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